Anything to keep their captors from killing him and Coffin for a while, Longarm thought. He said, “You didn’t want Coffin and me coming down here after Sonia because you knew she hadn’t really been kidnapped. Grabbing her in Del Rio was just one more part of your scheme.”
“But of course Don Alfredo wouldn’t be dissuaded from the idea, so I had no choice but to go along with him and hope that the two of you would meet a bad end down here south of the border,” said Barton. “As you soon will. But go ahead, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Seems to me like what you’ve probably got in mind is to make Don Alfredo pay a big ransom to El Aguila in order to get his daughter back alive and unharmed.”
Barton nodded. “Excellent reasoning. For a price, Guiterrez will get Sonia back as pure and untouched as she was when she was taken from Del Rio.”
Longarm supposed that statement was true enough, even though Barton didn’t mean it the way Don Alfredo would likely take it.
“That’s it?” asked Longarm. “This whole scheme was just to bilk some money out of Don Alfredo?”
“Of course not. The important part is where that money will go,” Sonia said proudly. “It will go to help free Mexico from the iron hand of the corrupt dictator Diaz and his lackeys such as my father.”
“That sounds like revolution talk to me,” said Longarm.
“It is!” Some of the same fire he had seen in Sonia’s eyes during their lovemaking burned in her gaze now as she stepped toward him. “Soon the government my father represents will be nothing but a bitter memory in the minds of the Mexican people.”
Longarm had crossed paths with Porfirio Diaz in the past, and held no affection for the Mexican president. In fact, the two of them had been outright enemies, and nothing would have pleased El Presidente more than the death of the man known south of the border as El Brazo Largo.
But that didn’t mean Longarm wanted to see Diaz overthrown when it would also mean that Franklin Barton would get away with betraying his own country. Longarm figured that Barton’s interest in revolution was more financial than political, so he said skeptically, “You’re not getting anything out of this, Barton?”
“Oh, I’ll be well compensated in the end,” Barton admitted, “both by the favors of Senorita Guiterrez here and the gratitude of the new ruling party. You see, Long, there’s more to this than simply getting Don Alfredo to ransom his daughter. There’s also going to be trouble between our government and Mexico, because that will further weaken Diaz.”
“So you plan to sabotage the border negotiations,” Longarm said grimly.
Coffin seemed to be catching on. He growled at Barton, “That’s why you was bein’ such a pain in the ass about everything back in Del Rio.”
“Very perceptive of you, Mr. Coffin, and of course you too, Marshal Long.” Barton looked so pleased with himself that Longarm wanted to fling himself across the room and wipe that smug expression off the treacherous diplomat’s face. Longarm controlled the impulse.
“So the two of you hatched this whole scheme last year when you met in Inferno.” It was more of a statement than a question.
Sonia nodded. “As soon as I met Franklin, I knew he was muy simpatico to my goals.”
Coffin grunted and said, “What fella wouldn’t be if he thought goin’ along with you would get him in your pants?”
Barton frowned. “There’s no need to be crude, Mr. Coffin,” he snapped.
Maybe a wedge could be driven between the plotters, thought Longarm. He said, “Doesn’t it bother you, Barton, that while Sonia’s using you, she’s jumping into bed with damn near every other man she meets?”
Barton shook his head and said, “Not at all. I’m well aware of the, ah, capacity of Sonia’s appetites. No one man could ever satisfy all of them.” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so that he could reach up and stroke her breast through the gown. Sonia smiled and practically purred as she snuggled against his side. “But we both know who she really loves,” Barton went on.
It was a bold statement, but Barton was just deluding himself, Longarm thought. Somewhere deep down, Barton probably knew that too. But the fantasy that Sonia was really in love with him, plus the money that he stood to make on this deal, would be enough for Barton. It would have to be.
“What about El Aguila?” asked Longarm, still stalling for time.
“What’s his part in this?”
“I told you, he has no part,” replied Sonia. “Our men merely used his name during their raids and made certain that it was overheard.”
“So you had a ready-made scapegoat if anything went wrong. The law would be looking for El Aguila, when it was really Deke here who rounded up the gang and led them on their raids.”
“That’s right,” Deke said, as satisfied with himself as Barton and Sonia both were. “And I’m getting a good payoff too, Long. “How often does Sonia visit your bunk?”
“That’s enough,” Barton said sharply. “I don’t care about the past, but now that I’m here, things will be different.” Longarm thought Deke’s jaw was a little more taut than it had been before Barton’s bold statement, but he couldn’t be sure. Anyway, it looked as if trying to cause friction between Barton and Deke over Sonia was a lost cause. Lust was one thing, but for some men, money could make up for a lot of lonely, frustrated nights. “Take them back out to the smokehouse and lock them up,” Barton continued. “We’ll deal with them later.”
Deke frowned. “I figured we’d go ahead and kill ‘em now.”
“I said later.” An ugly smile tugged at Barton’s mouth under the mustache. “Condemned men deserve a last meal. Mr. Coffin and Marshal Long will dine with us this evening. Sonia and Deke both looked surprised by Barton’s order, but neither of them argued the point. Deke drew his gun and started toward Longarm and Coffin, obviously intending to prod them from the room and take them back to their makeshift prison. “Wait a minute,” Longarm said quickly. “What about that fella Scott?”
“Yeah,” growled Coffin. “If I’m goin’ to die, there’s a few things I’d like to say to that double-crossin’ bastard first.”
“Save them until dinner,” Barton said. “I intend to ask Mr. Scott to join us.”
“Just for the meal,” asked Longarm, “or is he part of the gang now?”
“We’ll see. I do owe him a debt of thanks for delivering the two of you to us. I believe you would have caused no end of trouble had not fortune—and Mr. Scott—placed you in our hands.”
“You’re damned right about that,” said Coffin.
“Shut up and get moving,” snapped Deke.
Menaced by the guns in the hands of Deke and the other guards, Longarm and Coffin had no choice but to walk slowly from the room and along the corridor to the rear door of the house. They were taken back to the little log building and shoved inside. Deke stood just outside the door, and as he sneered in at them, the last rays of the setting sun touched his face and turned it a hellish red.
“This next meal really will be your last one,” he said. “You won’t be alive to see the sun come up in the morning.”
“We’ll still be breathin’ when you’re nothin’ but a corpse crawlin’ with maggots,” Coffin blustered.
Deke’s finger tightened on the trigger of the gun he was pointing at the Ranger, but he stopped the motion short of firing. An ugly laugh came from him. “Say whatever you want if it makes you feel better,” he said as he reached out to grasp the door. “You’ll still be just as dead later on.”
The door slammed shut, plunging the two lawmen into a thick gloom.